Had I known what the weather would be like for the next eight days, I might have acted more promptly. I had come to Darjeeling not only to see the marvellous hill-town, but also for its famous views of the Himalayas. It never occurred to me that seeing them would prove so difficult.
The first morning I awoke in Darjeeling the horizon was shrouded in a veil of haze. The room was cold with the seeping air outside and for the first time since arriving in India, I nestled under the blankets, feeling deliciously comfortable. The last two days had been exhausting days of travel – from Rishikesh to Delhi, across to Siliguri courtesy of Kingfisher Air, then up to Darjeeling by jeep – and I was happy to take it easy. I sat on my bed and snacked on biscuits, reading about the town.
Darjeeling had only come into…
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